


Remote

by randomnickname



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Short One Shot, Tickle Fights, general ridiculousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22200043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomnickname/pseuds/randomnickname
Summary: "Hey! I was watching that!"Justin and Giriko fight for the remote.
Relationships: Giriko/Justin Law
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	Remote

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Colamiilk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colamiilk/gifts).



The front door loudly banged shut, drowning out the chatter of the reality show. Giriko, sprawled on the carpet with his long legs flung across the coffee table, looked up from the Golem hand he was tinkering with.

"You're home late," he called.

Justin appeared in sight and plopped down on the couch with a weary groan. He undid the first two buttons of his shirt one-handed, rubbing at his eyes with the other.

"Long day." Frown lines were etched onto his face, the skin around his eyes thin with fatigue.

Giriko propped himself up on one elbow, casting aside the clay hand without a thought. "I can see that. What happened?"

"It happened," Justin said hotly while grabbing the remote, "That my colleagues are immature idiots and that diplomatic crises are not as fun to solve as they sound." His blue eyes were stormy. "I don't know why acting like a toddler seems to be that contagious. A miracle I managed to salvage the situation. So done with all of this nonsense!"

"Yeah, you say that now but tomorrow you'll crawl back to the DWMA like a grateful pet, same as always," Giriko commented with an eyeroll. To then call, indignant: "Hey! I was watching that!"

Justin lowered the remote and cast the scattered tools and Golem parts a pointed glance. "Yeah, sure you were," he drawled as the opening sequence to his favorite tuning show blasted through the speakers.

He was right, of course - Giriko had lost track of what was running on the TV quite a while ago. But it was a matter of principle. "I was, put it back on!"

Justin, eyes now riveted to the screen, slid down to a more relaxed sit, fingers locked over his stomach. "Nah."

Despite his bored, dismissive tone, the tiniest hint of a smile shadowed his mouth. Giriko felt the corners of his mouth twitch up in instinctive response, but swallowed it back, keeping his amusement well hidden. He brought his legs down from the coffee table, and sat up so he could glower up at him better.

"I was here first," he argued. "You gotta let me finish my show, 'ts only polite."

Justin looked down his nose at him, wearing that special, insufferable expression of superiority that he kept in store, just for Giriko. He'd rather die than to admit just how fond of it he was.

"Oh, you care about what's polite now? Well that's new," Justin observed, lips puckered in a dubious pout. "But too bad for you, darling. My house, my rules." He turned back to the TV with an air of finality.

But the discreet glance he sneaked at Giriko to gauge his reaction didn't go unnoticed. He was positively itching for a fight today - and Giriko was more than willing to play along.

He repressed a grin and instead brought a hand to his heart, mimicking hurt: "Thought you said this was as much my house as it was yours!"

Gaze on the screen, Justin shrugged, not fooled. "It's my house when it's convenient for it to be my house."

Giriko barked out a surprised laugh. "That's cold, babe!"

"Hm. Please be quiet, I'm trying to watch something here."

Ignoring the background babble about car paint and engine exhausts, Giriko slowly uncrossed his legs, eyes not leaving Justin's face.

"Wow, is this what we have become?" he said with chagrin. "You'd rather watch TV than look at me, yeah? I didn't know things got that bad between us lately. I mean, that's super sad, J, that's just -" Without a warning, he lunged forward and tore the remote out of Justin's relaxed hand. A heartbeat later he had scrambled out of reach and wildly mashed buttons to get to the previous channel.

Justin gasped in mock outrage and leapt up in turn. "Why, you - Thief! Give that back!"

Giriko held the remote high over his head, a big, self-satisfied grin on his face. "Nope!"

Justin, fully giggling now, bounced on his toes in an attempt to reach the remote, clawing at Giriko's arm. "That's mine, give it back!"

Giriko, shaking with silent laughter, stepped aside (a noisy crunch informed him that there went the Golem hand) and tried to hold Justin at arm's length.

"Come and get some, handsome," he sing-sang, then fell with a yelp when Justin hooked his heel behind his calf and tripped him

He connected with the carpet with a bang, the remote flying out of his hand and sliding towards the wall. Justin made a quick dive for it, but Giriko, recovering fast, tackled him by the knees and sent him crashing down on the coffee table. It broke in two with an awful bursting sound, sending splinters everywhere. That didn't slow Justin down much, though - shaking Giriko off, he tried to climb across the heap of wood, but Giriko got hold of his right foot and tugged, trying to pull him off-balance.

Justin donkey-kicked him in the face.

He was wearing socks, but it still hurt like hell, the flesh around Giriko's flat cheekbone growing hot and swollen instantaneously.

"Oi, you - fuck!" Giriko swore, momentarily forgetting his goal to prod at his face.

Justin twisted around and granted him a clinical look. "Hm. That's gonna bruise."

"Wow, you think?!" Giriko spat back, grimacing with pain. The entire right half of his face throbbed in tact with his pulse.

Justin's mouth twitched. "Ah, well -" He shrugged, seemingly dispassionate. Then made a mad dash for the remote. "You asked for it!"

Bastard.

Giriko got to his feet, muttering curses under his breath, and launched himself into pursuit. Justin, cradling the remote to his chest, had already retreated to a tactical position at the back of the couch, and was tracking Giriko’s movements with interest.

Giriko feigned a step to the left, then bolted in the opposite direction, reaching out to try and get hold of Justin’s shirt, but grasping only thin air. Justin was always two steps ahead and they ran around the couch in that silly chase for a while, until they came to a stand-still, facing each other across the couch once more.

"Now what," Justin said, grin smug.

Giriko shrugged. And vaulted the couch in one hug leap, tackling Justin mid-air. This time he didn’t let go off the other and they fell to the floor as one, breath knocked out from the violence of the impact. But Justin was still clutching the remote as if his life depended on it.

Giriko, swinging a leg over Justin’s hips to get himself comfortably seated, tried to pry his fingers off the remote one by one, to no avail. Only one resort left, the most despicable of all: tickling.

He viciously attacked Justin’s midriff and armpits and soon Justin was writhing beneath him, howling with involuntary laughter.

“Give up,” Giriko commanded, batting away Justin’s flailing hands, “And put my show back on.”

Tears of laughter were clinging to Justin’s pale lashes. “Bet you ... Haha, bet you don’t even ...” he gasped, “Remember what you were watching.”

Giriko frowned, and paused his tickle attack in order to think. “Pretty sure it was, uh, Death and the City?”

Justin smiled up at him, full of condescending affection. “It wasn’t.”

“MMA Ultimate, then.”

“No.”

Giriko groaned in annoyance, and Justin took that opportunity to pull his arm into a lock and flip him over with one powerful hip thrust. Making sure to securely pin Giriko’s arms between his knees, he teasingly dangled the remote in front of Giriko’s nose, a glitter in his eyes.

“You should know better than to steal my stuff,” he purred.

What a charming nuisance he was. Giriko grinned up at him with all of his sharp teeth. Suddenly he jerked up his head and chomped down on the remote, plastic bursting between his strong jaws.

In the background the channel switched to the Excalibur game show, the obnoxious moderator loudly announcing the rules. Giriko turned his head to the side to spit out a coil spring and crumbs of plastic.

Justin was staring down at him in utter disbelief, eyes wide in his face. Then he burst out laughing, shoulders heaving with it, and brushed off the broken remains of the remote from Giriko's t-shirt.

"You’re a total madman.” Shaking his head, he bent down with a smile to capture Giriko’s lips in a warm kiss.

Giriko made a low sound of appreciation and returned the kiss, savoring the taste of Justin’s breath.

“You love it,” he muttered, smirking.

Justin considered him through half-lidded eyes, unwontedly tender.

“Yeah,” he whispered, and firmly pressed his lips back against Giriko’s.

In the background the TV went on blabbering, thoroughly ignored.

**Author's Note:**

> For Colamiilk, who enjoys Giriko getting kicked in the face (but who doesn't, really).
> 
> Comments, short and long, make me terribly happy, so please tell me if you enjoyed this! Could use the pick me up


End file.
